Life Is A One Time Offer
by MaverickPaxAPunch
Summary: Johnny was never a strong boy - externally, or internally. Perhaps a conversation with his mother's "old friend" would change things. [Johnny meets Wendy]


**Hello! I'd just like to start out with the usual - I don't own any of the American Horror Story characters. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think. Any feedback is appreciated! Thanks. **

"Hey, give it back! Give it back!"

The older boy held the plastic dinosaur over Johnny's head, dangling it and taunting in a pubescent sing-song way. Johnny fumbled for the papers that had been dumped out of his backpack moments ago by one of the bully's cronies, frantically gathering them in ine arm while reaching for his dino with the other.

"Squirt some tears, punk! I'll shove it up your ass!" The bigger kid sneered, licking his crusty lips and tossing the plastic figurine to his pal, playing a game of monkey in the middle. Of course, Johnny was the monkey. Again. This happened all the time - usually with the same bullies that pulled his pants down in the bathrooms and set off miniature sparklers in his desk, and he'd come to mind it.

His mother wasn't there to save him this time.

"Give it back to me!" Johnny hated being short. He drank all his milk like he was supposed to, and even walked on his tiptoes and shoved socks in his shoes, but he'd never be these hormone-infused gorillas walloping through the seventh grade. They were years older than him, not to mention shaggy-haired, body odored, and flat out mean.

The boy in charge gave a horsey laugh. "What're you gonna do about it, shithead?"

"Fuck you." The younger boy growled; words he'd heard his mother say on the phone before.

"What'd you say, asshole?"

"I said give it back!" Johnny leapt again, but the others just sniggered.

"Oh, you want your gay-ass dinosaur back, Winters?" The other bully tossed the green and orange figurine under his leg to his pal, stepping on Johnny's backpack. The ground was slushy and half-frozen, creating a sludgey mud that stained the contents of his bag. "This thing's probably gayer than your dad - on right, he doesn't have one!"

"Give it back to me!" His voice broke on the last word, and he lunged for one of them, straight for the gut. He caught him first, thrusting him to the ground. His final defense was a cower, not a kick nor scratch, but the whimpering stance of a boy failure as he stared through his thick spectacles. The bigger kids kicked his defeated body, and he let them, feeling the melty November snow seeping into his jeans.

"Hey! You leave him alone!" Johnny looked up - his vision was blurry, so his glasses must have been knocked off - at the hazy figure standing over them, frantically sitting up. The knees of his pants were shredded open and his knees were cold and bloody, but that seemed to be the worst of the damage. "Get away from him!" The same voice chorused, and the bully scoffed, giving Johnny's backpack one final kick in the mud before lumbering off with his friends. For now.

Johnny rubbed his eyes, still dazed. The enebriated sound of the playground flooded his ears, nothing other than the clanking chains of swings, the screeches of other children freezing their mittens to the jungle gym. The world swung lazily around him and black spots splotches his vision when he finished rubbing the dirt from his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Yeah, he was fine for now. And used to it. The woman handed him his folded glasses, and when their hands touched, hers was warm. He unfolded them and slid them back onto his nose, studying the woman; she had brown hair in chocolate ringlets; he couldn't see most of it, as a velveteen hat covered her ears, and she wore a long pea coat. He couldn't tell how long, though, because she crouched to his own level, wearing a concerned look on her plain face.

"You shouldn't let them bother you." A small frown followed the woman's words as she held up his plastic dinosaur, extending the toy out to him. He took it gratefully but looked sorrowfully towards his wilted school bag. "It's not that bad." Shaking her head, the lady tugged the backpack out of the slush and wiped it with her bare, pale hands, smiling lightly as she held up the dripping garment.

Johnny gathered the damp, stained papers that had been through an ordeal themselves, eyeing the lady with suspicion. She was quite pretty, really. She wore pearls in her ears, and had the nicest of hands. "Who are you?"

"Oh, just an old friend of your mom's." She paused, reaching towards him. To his surprise, her warm fingers came to rest across his cheek. It was something his mom often did, especially when she tucked him in at night. "You look an awful lot like her, you know."

The confused child didn't know what to say, so he stood up, breaking away from his savior's grasp. The hems of his jeans were soaked a few inches up, and he was covered in damp prickly rocks and dirt. The sludgey mud was even in his hair.

She rose as well, carefully brushing the debris from his courderoy jacket, fixing the faux lamb's wool collar. Johnny's backpack was draped across her forearm, staining her milk-coffee coat, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Put this on." With one sweep into his bag, his mother's friend retrieved his winter hat, holding it out to him. It had been a Christmas gift last year, he couldn't quite remember from who, but it had furry ear flaps and a buckle for his chin. "It's too cold out here, your mother wouldn't want you getting sick.

For some reason, Johnny obeyed. He owed her, didn't he? No matter who she was, she had saved him from a major beating. He barely ever walked away from those bullies with some skinned knees and a bruised head. And besides - Lana was awfully careful about choosing her acquaintances. If the woman really was one of his mother's friend's, she must be trustworthy.

"There." She smiled softly, doing the buckle with expert hands. She must have kids of her own, he thought. "Johnny," she paused, pressing her hands to his shoulder. The weight of them there was comfortable, almost familiar in a sense. "Would you like to take a walk with me? Just around the school and back."

Johnny hesitated, turning his stegosaurus around in his cold hand at his side. "Sure, why not?"

"Good." He enjoyed this lady's smile. It was genuine, sincere. Maybe it just seemed like that - after all, he'd think Satan was # 1 if he pulled a bully off his back, but there was a faint humming in his head that said trust, trust, trust, something he barely did.

"How do you know my mom?" Johnny looked up at her, taking two smaller steps to equal her own. Her winter boots left suctioned sink holes in the mud, and when the two of them hopped up into the dryer sidewalk, both left wet footprints. "You've never been around before."

"We've been friends for a long time." Closing her eyes, she allowed the chilly breeze to pass over her face, the edges of her lips tugging up slightly at the sensation. "She still talks to me ever so often, and I listen."

He liked this lady, even if she was a little confusing. "Oh." Johnny looked into his stegosaurus's painted-on, beady eyes. It seemed to say thank you for rescuing me, weird lady.

They were passing familiar houses around the block now - a fading nuke one with a picket fence, the newish yellow one that reminded him of the doll's houses he saw in department store windows. It was a nice neighborhood, and he liked living here,a side from the "no friends" thing. But he didn't mind all that much - his mother was his friend, right? Ever since they'd moved, she'd been the only one to talk to.

"Thank you." Meekly, he gathered the courage to talk again. It was embarrassing, getting beat around and saved by a stranger. "For helping me." For certain, he would have been beaten to a pulp with his own dinosaur if it hadn't been for her.

"You don't need to thank me." She smiled again, swinging her hands at her sides, biting on her bottom lip. "Johnny," she paused, her stride faltering as she stood still, gracefully shifting her weight from her right foot to her left. "They're the jerks, you know."

He knew she was referring to the older kids that pushed him was a wonder he wasn't starving - he hadn't eaten lunch at school in four days,but he didn't have the heart to tell his mother. "Yeah, I know."

"You know what?" Her hand rested on top of his head, her skirt, which was longer than her coat, swaying around her knees. "Someday, you're gonna be waaaaay up here." She lifted her hand in an exaggerated motion above her head, "and you know where they're gonna be? Right here, underneath your chin." He couldn't hide a smile as she chucked his gently under the chin, leaving her palm to rest on his shoulder. "How old are you now?"

"Nine and a half."

She smiled and the two started down the sidewalk again. "That gives you lots of time to grow into a big, strong man. Trust me - you'll grow into your heart one day, Johnny Boy."

"My - my mom calls me that." Johnny stuttered. For some odd reason, his heart was struggling against his ribcage, like a trapped animal.

"I know." A tender glance crossed her reflective pupils - her irises were a matching cocoa for her hair, and she seemed quite young. Gently, she took the dinosaur figure from Johnny's frigid hands, holding it up to her face, as if she were holding it eye to eye. "Don't let them take your innocence. You have lots of time to be a child - they're only jealous of you because of that."

"They're jealous of me? They're not jealous of me." His wet sneakers squeaked on the wet, taupe sidewalk as he strode beside her, hanging his head. Those guys had everything and anything they wanted, and in turn, that meant Johnny had absolutely nothing, no value.

"They are, so. You know why? Bullies feel bad about themselves, so they have to put you down to feel something good. It's a vicious cycle, really. They hurt you, and really they're hurting on the inside. But what you have to do is be the bigger man."

Man? He wasn't a man. His age wasn't even double digits! "How do I do that?"

"Hmm, that's a tough one, isn't it?" She stuck the plastic dino in her pocket so his front legs and head stuck out - he had plenty of space to breath, and Johnny could keep an eye on him. "You have to show them that it doesn't bother you. Even if it does." She tapped his foggy glasses and he mustered a smile. "Your mother is the strongest person I know. You get that from her." The woman chewed on her bottom lip again. They were coming up on a new street without a sidewalk, so they walked on the side of the road. Any bystander would believe a mother was walking home with her son.

"Mom says some people won't be happy until they've pushed you to the ground."

"That's true. It's if you get back up that makes you a good man. They're cowards - they'd never get back up if they were in your position. And sometimes, people like you just need a little help."

Johnny reached out and took her hand, enveloping his smaller palm in her warmth. The side street wasn't as slushy from tire tracks, and more white snow spotted the granite street. His mother's friend swung their hands tenderly between them.

"There's my old house." She chorused, pointing with her hand that wasn't holding the boy's. The two stopped to admire it; a young man wearing a plaid shirt stooped on a ladder, hanging Christmas lights under the gutter. It was a nice small house, Johnny decided. A bird bath, chipping and forgotten, was frozen over, and a few lonely wind chimes fluttered in the chilly almost-December breeze. "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Why don't you live there anymore?"

"Hmm. People move on. Bad things happened. The years I lived there were the happiest of my life." Sighing contentedly, she put her arm around Johnny's shoulders and steered him in the right direction. "Come on, Mr. Winters, we better be on our way."

Johnny peered over his shoulder at the house again as they continued down the street towards the sound of the playground again. A woman watched from the window, blonde and silhouetted by a lamp in the den, as her husband - probably her husband - fashioned the Christmas decorations.

"What if they come back?" Johnny frantically looked around as they approached the playground again, a distant reminder that made his bloody knees ache just at the prospect. "They'll beat me up again."

"Remember what I said about standing up to them?" She stopped Johnny in his tracks, tugging him by the hand as she knelt down by his side, placing her hands on his shoulders. A glint was in her pretty eyes, perhaps tears, but the cold might have created the illusion. "Stand your ground. Have the courage not to give them the light of day. Your light of day, Johnny. Hold onto your power and never give it away."

"Okay." His voice was a hoarse whisper, and the lady took both of his hands.

"Let me see," she said softly, unfurling them. Naturally, they curled into protective fists, but she unfolded his fingers to reveal his reddened palms. "Yes, just what I thought. Strong, manly hands. They're going to grow, Johnny Boy, and one day, I know with my heart, that you'll see your potential." A single tear rushed down her cheek, and he couldn't find it in himself to figure out why she was crying.

So, he careened into her, throwing himself against the warm sweetness of her body. She smelled like cinnamon and snow as he whimepred into her shoulder, hugging as tightly as his nine-and-a-half-year-old-arms would let him.

He sniffed, and she wiped his eyes with her thumb. "No more tears now. You've got too much good for this sadness. And the assholes - they mean nothing." She cupped his cheeks with hitch hands. "You're strong, like your mom, remember?"

"I remember."

"Good." She pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, really the fur of his hat, and stood up. He linked arms with her.

"I can ask my mom if you can stay for dinner." Johnny looked up at the woman's friendly features, noticing her quiet beauty again. "If you are friends, she'll be happy to see you."

There was a silence from her he had somehow expected as they became closer and closer to the playground. "I'd love to. I wish I could - but I'm only passing through, and it's best if I skedaddle - traffic's fierce, you know?"

"Can't you stay one night for dinner?" What he really wanted to ask was for her to stay forever. He didn't know why - but he felt she belonged, and it was something he couldn't understand.

"I wish I could." Patting his shoulder gently, she straightened his collar. "You be a good boy for your mom, alright?" She paused again, somehow studying his features and sucking in her cheeks. "Tell your mom she's - a great lady, alright? I miss her."

Johnny wished he didn't have to let go of her hand. She was his savior, and for some reason, she made his idea of family seem complete. He let go of her hand and peered over his shoulder at the quick and shrill sound of one car honk. His mother's blue Chevy was parked alongside the playground, and he waved once, turning back to the other woman.

She was gone.

Johnny looked around, turning in idiotic circles, but that only made him dizzy. He stopped to regain his balance, and the world swung around him in double images of a girl was winging so high the chains rattled, a group of fifth graders on the merry-go-round.

Suddenly, he realized that his stegosaurus was still in the lady's pocket - she'd run off with it. The very thing she'd saved for him, and now it was lost. And his backpack was on the ground again, neatly propped up against a seesaw. He picked it up and limped towards his mother' scar. She had gotten out and was leaning against the passenger side door.

"Johnny!" She exclaimed when she saw his state of health, immediately kneeling to inspect his knees. A bruise was forming above his eyes, brown and fresh.

"I'm fine." He embraced her and his backpack slouched against his right arm.

"This is ridiculous, I'm marching in there right now to have a talk with your principal -"

"Mommy."

Lana paused. It had been quite some time since he'd called her that - ever since he'd been seven, he'd called her "mom".

"What is it, sweetheart?" The concerned mother rubbed her hand on his head, pushing his hat back to reveal his wiry black hair. "Are you okay?"

"It's okay, Mom. Someone helped me." He explained as Lana opened the car door for him, boosting him up into the passenger seat before strolling to the other side and starting the car.

"Oh, yeah? Who? Damn it..." His mother cursed as the car made a thump-thump-thump when she turned the ignition, stuttering to life on the fifth try.

"She said she was a friend of yours." Johnny focused on his scraped knees, picking unnoticed pieces of rubble from the bloody mess. He could wash them off at home.

"A friend of mine?" Lana wasn't exactly paying attention to her son as she shifted the stick shift, pulling out into the slushy road. "Since when do have friends?" She chuckled.

"An old friend of yours." Johnny leaned his elbow against the door, drawing on the foggy window. "She didn't tell me her name." He sat up suddenly, pointing out Lana's side as the blue car carved down a back road. "She lived there."

The car suddenly haunted, and Lana's arm went out to protect Johnny from the jolt. Instead of colliding with the dashboard, he swung into his mother's arm. The keys swung in the ignition.

His mother stared at the house, a small gasp escaping her parted lips as she placed her fingers over them. She seemed to recognize it, the old house; blinking bulbs now framed the roof, and a light up reindeer was positioned on the porch.

"Johnny..." Lana turned towards her son, and he pressed his face against her shoulder.

"I think something bad happened to her, Mom. Really bad."

His mother's body shook with sobs - he hated it when his mother cried. It made him feel helpless, because she never cried. "Yeah, baby. Something really bad."

"She's still your friend, right Mom?" He dared a whisper, and Lana's fingers laced into the soft, short hair on the back of his neck, pushing up his hat where it made his neck sweaty.

His mother gasped again, and this time he felt it in her chest. "Of course." She paused, sitting up. Her mascara ran like crocodile tears, and he couldn't quite figure out why, but the hint of a smile crossed her expression. "We'll have to visit her sometime. I haven't taken you since you were a baby."

That would make sense, since they'd moved to New York for most of Johnny's childhood - why he hadn't heard of his mother's friend until now was strange.

"When can we visit?"

Lana wiped her eyes, but her lip still quivered. "Soon, baby. Soon. It's been a long time since I've seen her."

"She said she missed you." He added, remembering what she'd told him.

Lana shifted the car from park again and reached across the seat for Johnny's hand. He rode pressed against her side, arm around her torso. "I miss her too."

Johnny sat up again and watched the woman's house disappear in the distance through the back window, the blinking lights shining through the opaque glimmer of frost on the windshield until the car turned down a different road.

Johnny reached into his bag and pulled out his stegosaurus.


End file.
